


"What's a Gason Boy to Do? or in other words - New Blood, the Sequel"

by DebbieF



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:47:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,939
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27963254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DebbieF/pseuds/DebbieF
Summary: I guess it's never too late to do a follow-up request. Ha! This was requested by Emgoalie when I wrote this back in 2015.The original story is, of course, titled - "New Blood". Here's the link to it for my readers to familiarize themselves again with the story (I certainly had too). Also the link helps the newbies find it faster.https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/8993116Emgoalie, this one shot is for you.
Relationships: D'Artagnan is Queen Anne's second cousin and Treville is his honorary uncle
Comments: 9
Kudos: 13





	"What's a Gason Boy to Do? or in other words - New Blood, the Sequel"

_Royal Gardens - Where we left off at a lawn fete for children belonging to Their Majestys' Court_

" _Prepare to fight! One of us dies here!_ " announced d'Artagnan rather dramatically.

Athos' lips twitched. If one blinked they would have missed it. Still, Porthos and Aramis noted it. Hence the laughter and clapping coming from their quarter.

"Mmmmm," hummed Aramis who stood beside one of his best friends. "The lad sounds quite confident." He just hoped the boy wouldn't damage the sword he'd borrowed from him without permission. Aramis was brought out of his musings by the continuous sharp elbow poking him in the side by an excited Porthos.

" _Come on, Athos!_ " shouted Porthos through cupped hands. " _Ya gonna let a pup like that stick it ta ya?_ " Shame he didn't know this was going to happen. He could have won good money upon this match up. Placing his money upon the kid of course.

Frustrated, Athos could not engage someone who would not follow proper protocols. By that he meant that the child was all over the place to a dizzying degree. "You do know that you are not following the rules of swordplay?"

"Rules!" Scrunching up his face, d'Artagnan rolled his eyes. "Since when have there ever been rules?" Doing a backflip away from the Musketeer's blade, landing with a flourish, he felt exhilarated. "I could do this all day, old man, as I've been taught by the best."

"Old man," grunted Athos. "I shall teach you the meaning of manners, boy."

Dancing away from a strike that was surely meant to take d'Artagnan down, he added, "There aren't any rules when your life's on the line." This time he spun around in a circle so fast that he noted confusion appear upon Athos' face when d'Artagnan ended up behind the soldier. Not giving the Musketeer time to collect himself, he took the other man out at the knees leaving his uncle's lieutenant in an ungainly heap upon the ground.

"Whelp," swiping at his eyes, that had become blurred due to tears of laughter, Porthos had been amazed, "I haven't been entertained like that in a long while." Beside him Aramis whistled appreciatively.

"I must say that if you keep up the way you mean to go on," smiling wickedly, Aramis had also been pleasantly surprised at the display of prowess by one so young, "our regiment is in for a major shock."

Watching Athos slowly pick himself up, Porthos was hardpressed not to rub it in. "Need a hand there?"

Ridding himself of dust that clung to his uniform, Athos' scowl deepened. "Bit late for that as you see I am already upright." Turning away from his brother, about to berate the young Gascon again, he took note that the lad had disappeared. "Where did he get off too?"

Lifting up his sword, Aramis replied, "Not sure but he gave me my blade back." Studying the steel, his lips pursed. "I may hang this up in a place of honor with a plaque underneath it to read - _the sword that laid Athos low._ "

"Since you find this so amusing," growled Athos, "I'll add more to that by assigning you armory duty for many a month to come."

Sighing, Aramis leaned his shoulder against Porthos' broader one. "Me thinks Athos is upset."

"Me thinks you're right." Agreeing with his friend, Porthos then spotted the illusive pup. The kid was back with the young royals again. "Mis, ya don't feel that the king and queen expect us ta give the boy special treatment do ya?"

"I doubt it." Twirling his mustache, Aramis wondered how old the youth was. "I believe we should find out from the captain d'Artagnan's age and then act accordingly."

"The lad is going to be nineteen years of age soon," offered Treville, who had just come up behind his men and overheard the conversation.

"Why does he need convincing to join us?" Athos still did not know how to feel being bested by that young upstart. "He is most undisciplined."

Chuckling, Treville's blue eyes held secrets. "That fancy footwork is something his père taught d'Artagnan and I encouraged it. As for his acrobatics," he was going to laugh again but one look into his lieutenant's stormy eyes quickly disabused him of that notion, "that's all pure boy." Rubbing his chin, Treville took pity upon Athos and answered the man's initial question. "The lad feels he's needed to run the famille farm now that Alexandre's passed."

"Kid seems right at 'ome with Their Majestys." From his vantage point, Porthos observed the lad once more chasing after that petit Maximilian all around the garden.

"They want nothing more than for him to live at the palace with them. Her Majesty especially." Startled, when a petit person crawled between his legs, Treville stared down as Max glanced upward. Bending, he lifted the child up in the air to settle the lad upon his hip. Ruffling the boy's hair with his free hand, Treville shook a finger in the air. "What are we to do with you, eh?"

"You give him back to me." When Max was deposited into d'Artagnan's possession he let Max settle upon his shoulders, one leg dangling upon either side of his head. "Max, you're nothing but a terror today."

Placing both his hands over Charles' eyes, Max giggled. " _Your_ terror."

Blowing out a breath, d'Artagnan started to leave until a remark, delivered by the dryest tone he had ever heard, gave him pause.

"I suppose we could make something out of you." That was the closest Athos would get in telling this child he would possibly make a good Musketeer.

"Don't do me any favors," retorted d'Artagnan. Honestly that man was such a stuffed shirt. Athos definitely didn't live up to the hype. Once again Max blocked his vision. "If you don't want me to end up falling I suggest you cease and desist your torment."

Pouting, Max relented. "Don't you want to have fun?"

"You, petit, take _fun_ to an entirely other level." Waving at his uncle and the inseparables d'Artagnan made a beeline for Madame Michelle, one of the many governesses in charge of the children. How he ended up with _Max duty_ was beyond him. However, he needed to deposit this petit bundle of energy so that he could clear his head.

Treville's voice was grim when he addressed his lieutenant. " _I suppose we could make something out of you._ " Repeating Athos' words, his eyes narrowed upon the younger officer. " _Mon Dieu!_ That's not what I meant by encouraging d'Artagnan to stay and train with us."

"I'm all for it." Sheathing his sword, Aramis' dark eyes twinkled. "As long as you give the lad his own sword."

"He has one but didn't want to risk anything happening to it so left it back home," said Treville. Holding up a hand to forestall further questions, he went on to explain. "It's his père's blade and what makes it an outstanding piece is that the hilt's made out of pure gold."

Whistling through his teeth, Porthos studied the whelp's retreating figure. "Yeah, that would make the kid a prime target for the rats that run our streets."

"May I ask how his père came by such a treasure?" Athos perked up at hearing this bit of news. "I mean usually one of nobility would only be able to afford a weapon of such workmanship."

"Even though Her Majestys' great aunt hailed from Spain she married what amounts to as a commoner. Adelina and Alexandre worked hard for everything they had." Pausing, the memories rushed in. "Alexandre earned that blade from King Henry for exemplary heroism in the field during the war."

"Same as the sword ya got hangin' in your office." Nodding, Porthos remembered the same type of weapon also in a place of honor behind the captain's desk. It was a display piece now, full of memories for his commander.

"Oui." Listening to the sounds of children singing, Treville's expression changed to one of interest. "I seem to be missing out upon all the fun. If you gents would excuse me I think I'll join them."

"Athos, lighten up," cajoled Aramis. "We've all been saying lately that we need some new blood in our regiment."

"The kid would be a nice fit." In full agreement, Porthos wondered what Athos was thinking right now.

"Actually we've been needing a fourth to round things out," added Aramis with another wicked look crossing his features.

"We have?" Both Athos' brows shot up to nearly reach his hairline. "Do you not believe the Gascon to be slightly too young to add to _our_ group?"

"'E'll liven up the place." Clapping Athos' shoulder, Porthos grinned. "And I can teach 'im all I know."

"That's an incentive if ever I heard one." Deciding to go after the pup, and do some gentle arm twisting himself, Aramis dipped his head toward his friends before departing.

"Where does he think he is going?" muttered Athos.

"Ta make up for your fumblin'." Bumping his shoulder against his older brother, Porthos shook his head.

"Bien," shrugging, Athos finally gave in, "I have never had a protégé before. Tis never too late to start I suppose." Following in Aramis' footsteps, he went to join the marksman who was currently speaking with the boy.

Enjoying the lighthearted exchange of banter d'Artagnan's eyes dimmed somewhat upon the appearance of the new arrival. "I'm too old for you to spank."

"Never crossed my mind, child." Amusement made Athos' eyes crinkle up in the corners. "If you feel like obliging us with your presence I am willing to accept you as my protégé."

Clutching at his heart, Aramis acted as if he received a mortal blow. "The Earth just shook under my feet." The youngster's laughter was contagious as he too joined in. Glancing at Athos' flushed features, Aramis teased. "Are you sure you're my brother?" When his name was growled back at him, he was convinced.

Judging the lieutenant to be serious, d'Artagnan held out his hand. Shaking Athos', he couldn't help but blurt out, "If we don't end up killing one another I believe this will work."

" _Finally!_ " yelled King Louis as he and the queen listened in. Turning to her, he grabbed her hand. "Mon ange, we can now start getting Charles' room ready.

Eyes dancing merrily, Queen Anne squeezed her husband's hand back. "What makes you think I haven't already started?"

"Tis a conspiracy... I swear." Uncle Jean-Armand ruffled d'Artagnan's hair, just like he used to do when he had been a petit like Max. "All right, you have me as your fourth," his eyes slid toward Athos, the man who would be his mentor, "until I eventually become Captain of the Musketeers that is."

His uncle's snort of mirth brought about an answering grin upon d'Artagnan's cheery expression. The stunned looks upon the other three men present however was forever priceless. Anne's amusement was obvious and Louis appeared ready to burst with happiness.

"Men," Treville cast a long look at the inseparables, "you have now had your papers served and have been duly warned."

"Kid, I like a man that knows 'is own mind." Reaching out he tugged the boy close for a hearty hug and slap upon the back.

Tapping the lad's shoulder, Aramis said, "My turn I think." Squeezing the back of d'Artagnan's neck, he whispered in the pup's ear. "Really, Athos is a pussycat once you get to know him."

Athos was left to wonder, and worry, why his friend and the child both wore shit eating grins.

The End


End file.
